


Red Sky at Morning

by hostilovi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Blood, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilovi/pseuds/hostilovi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t that hard to figure out, he thought. But either he was a better observer than he gave himself credit for or other people just—refused to notice.</p><p>Kiyoshi Teppei was a vampire.</p><p>And he did a very poor job of hiding it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Sky at Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiiyoshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiyoshi/gifts).



It wasn’t that hard to figure out, he thought. But either he was a better observer than he gave himself credit for or other people just— _refused_  to notice.

Kiyoshi Teppei was a vampire.

And he did a very poor job of hiding it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was not pale. Sunlight did not seem to have any adverse effect on him. Nor did any of the silver that Kuroko casually brought near to him, just to test the theory.

The cross necklace he saw Kuroko wearing did make him smile, though. Not one of his usual cheery, too-wide smiles, but a secretive smile that made his dark eyes gleam with—something.

He was not pale. But he was cool to the touch, even under the heat of the summer sun, even wearing sweaters in the winter. For all the casual touches exchange between the team, no one ever seemed to notice; except for once, Kagami complained about the coldness of his fingers after giving him a high five.

Kiyoshi had laughed. Apologized, even.

“I have a condition,” he had said, and they had left it at that.

‘Condition’ could have meant anything. Bad circulation or something. But Kuroko knew it was more than that. He had read enough books to recognize one of his kind, even if it was hard to believe he was  _real._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I know what you are.”

They were alone in the locker room. Kuroko had purposefully hidden his presence, waiting until the others left and cornered Kiyoshi.

Though it felt more like Kiyoshi had allowed himself to be cornered.

“Oh?” Kiyoshi smiled curiously, his eyes drifting low, to where the silver cross hung invisible beneath Kuroko’s school uniform. “Surely you mean  _whom_ , Kuroko.”

“I meant what I said.”

“Then do tell.” He leaned back against the lockers, eyes lidding as he looked down at Kuroko, still with that smile. “What am I?”

Kuroko couldn’t force the words out. His throat was too tight.

“Something fearsome, loathsome? Perhaps even monstrous?” Kiyoshi reached out a hand, touching his chest lightly, right where the cross lay against his skin, then moving upward, brushing against the pulse point on his neck. His gaze was hypnotic. Kuroko couldn’t look away, couldn’t move except to shiver at his touch.

Then Kiyoshi ruffled his hair, and the spell was broken.

“You let me know when you figure out what you mean to say.”

Kuroko watched him go. The door closed quietly behind him, leaving him in the silence of the locker room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How did he manage physicals? All those doctor appointments? Surely the undead didn’t have a pulse. Kuroko was burning with questions, driven to distraction enough that his test scores slipped slightly below average.

Riko scolded him, warned him about turning into Kagami. Later she approached him, worried, wondering if everything was okay.

_Does she know? They dated, didn’t they? How could she not know?_

“I’m fine. It won’t happen again.”

He would get rid of his hold Kiyoshi had over him, once and for all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kuroko managed to find him alone again, after practice one night. He was re-doing the wrappings around his bad knee, not paying Kuroko any mind even though they both knew he knew he was being watched.

“Undo it,” Kuroko said.

“Excuse me?” Kiyoshi didn’t look up, didn’t startle. He always seemed to be aware of him, attuned to his every movement. These days, they almost made a better pair and he and Kagami did, on the court. Kiyoshi was just always there.

“Undo it. Whatever it is you’ve done to me.” He swallowed hard, stepping closer. All of him screamed out about the  _danger, danger, danger_. A part of him craved that very thrill. “Your thrall.”

Something unreadable passed over Kiyoshi’s face. He looked gentle as he gestured for Kuroko to sit beside him on the bench. Not at all like the monster Kuroko knew him to be.

“I swear to you, Kuroko,” he said, almost urgent, “I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Then why—” Kuroko cut himself off. “You must have. You must be lying.”

“Kuroko, look at me. Look at me.” When Kuroko wouldn’t turn his head, Kiyoshi turned it for him, a gentle touch to his jaw. Kuroko reluctantly met his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and concern. And something darker, warmer. “I swear by my life, I’ve done nothing to you.”

“But you’re not,” Kuroko swallowed again, aware he was staring and unable to stop, “alive.”

Kiyoshi tensed slightly, the hand at his jaw tightening. “Figured that one out all on your own, did you,” he said softly. “What makes you so sure?”

_Your reaction, for one._

Kuroko reached out a hand, pulse hammering, and laid it over Kiyoshi’s chest. Right where his heart should have been beating steadily.

There was nothing. No beat, no pulse.

“Vampire,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Kiyoshi said simply, “I am.”

“Who else…”

“No one knows. Well, Riko may have guessed, but I don’t think she knows for certain.” He tilted his head slightly, a tiny smile quirking his lips. “Not like you.”

“Undo your thrall. Your hypnotism. Whatever it is.”

“There is no thrall.”

“There must be.” There had to be. Why else was Kuroko so drawn to him? Why else hadn’t he told the others this terrible secret?

“There’s no thrall. I would never do that to someone so close to me.” His brows furrowed slightly, cool fingers shifting restlessly against his skin. Kuroko didn’t have it in him to pull away.

“So you can. Put me under thrall.”

“I could.” Kiyoshi’s dark eyes roved over him, smile widening. Kuroko could see the very tips of his fangs, could see the faint glimmer of red in the depths of his gaze. “Is that what you want, my dear Kuroko?”

“No,” he choked out. “I want you to let me go.”

Another unreadable flash.

“Ah,” Kiyoshi sighed, sadly. “But that’s not what  _I_  want.”

He let him go regardless, hand slipping away from his face.

“Go, if you like. Tell the others, if you must.”

“You would let me do that?” Kuroko stood on shaking legs.

“Of course. I cannot keep you.”

“You could. You could kill me.” Kuroko glanced at his mouth, where he had seen fangs. “You could…drink me.”

Something dark and terrible crossed Kiyoshi’s face. Kuroko took an uncertain step backwards as Kiyoshi stood and approached.

“Don’t suggest that.” He backed Kuroko up against the lockers, trapping him between his arms. Kuroko’s heart was pounding, so fast, too fast. Could he hear? “Not even as a joke, Kuroko.”

“You called me dear,” Kuroko realized. He should have been panicking. “You called me yours.”

Kiyoshi bent down. The wrappings on his leg were coming loose but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Because I would like for you to be.”

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

“You never asked—never said—”

Kiyoshi exhaled through his nose. “How could I? Being what I am.”

Silence fell between them, only the drip of the one leaky showerhead there to break the quiet.

“I won’t tell,” Kuroko whispered, hands trembling. He wanted to run. More than that, he wanted to touch. Kiyoshi met his eyes again, serious for once. “The others. I won’t tell.”

“And what shall I do for you in return?” he asked.

Kuroko’s eyes fell to his lips.

Kiyoshi smiled.

“That, dearest, I can do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Kuroko saw him feed, it was an accident. He was on his way home after leaving the bookstore, laden down with purchases, when he heard something strange coming from the nearby alley.

He poked his head around the corner and then he saw.

Kiyoshi he recognized at once, even in the dark. The man in his arms, he did not know, but he saw blood, saw Kiyoshi’s fangs,  _heard him_ , the almost frantic sound of him…drinking.

The bag fell from his numb fingers, hitting the ground and scattering before he could catch it.

Kiyoshi’s head snapped up and he snarled—the sound a predator would make, protecting its kill from scavengers.

The moment he saw Kuroko’s face, his expression changed.

“Kuroko—I was just—” he dropped the man, scrambling to his feet with a wince. He approached hurriedly, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, bending down to pick up the fallen books. Kuroko only had eyes for the man, the man lying so still on the ground. “I didn’t mean for you to see me like that,” Kiyoshi finished lowly, pressing the bag back into his limp hands. Kuroko could see the brilliant swipe of blood on his shirt.

“You killed him,” he said softly.

“He was near death already. I promise. I would never—I wouldn’t just kill randomly just so I could eat. I swear it. I’ll swear it on anything you like, please. Please. Just don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Kuroko drew his eyes away from the blood and looked up at Kiyoshi’s desperate face. His eyes were all red now, his pupils blown wide and sclera eclipsed with the bright color.

“Like I’m a monster,” Kiyoshi said, shakily. His hands curled over Kuroko’s shoulders. “I—I never meant for you to see—”

Kuroko carefully curled his arms around him, staring unseeing into the night as Kiyoshi folded himself around him, trembling. “It’s okay,” he soothed quietly, rubbing Kiyoshi’s back. Kiyoshi held on like Kuroko was the only thing keeping him standing. “It’s okay.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He never saw Kiyoshi feed again. Never asked about how he chose his victims.

Kuroko wasn’t sure if it was out of trust or out of fear of what he would hear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first time, it was also an accident. His parents and grandmother gone for the weekend, he invited Kiyoshi over for dinner. He had seen him eating human food before, so surely that was fine to do.

Kiyoshi accepted.

He was in the kitchen, helping Kuroko chop vegetables and telling stories about the team from before, making Kuroko laugh. Kuroko’s knife slipped.

It wasn’t a deep cut, but it still stung. Kuroko hissed in pain, dropping the knife.

Kiyoshi grabbed his hand, drawing it close to him, looking entranced as a droplet of blood spilled from the thin slice. Then Kiyoshi went very, very still.

“Kiyoshi?”

“May I?”

“May you—oh.  _Oh._ ” Kiyoshi had already bent his head, dragging his tongue slowly across the cut. Kuroko shivered at the sensation. Just as quickly as he had done it, he was pushing Kuroko away. He stumbled backwards a few steps at the force.

The pain, slight as it was, was gone.

“You should clean that out,” Kiyoshi said hoarsely, picking his knife back up in a white-knuckled hand. His eyes were red, red, red. “My saliva dulls the pain, but it’s not antiseptic.”

“Of course,” Kuroko said faintly. “Thank you, Kiyoshi.”

He smiled tightly and turned his back, returning to chopping.

Things were mostly normal that night, except for Kiyoshi’s eye dropping to his bandaged finger every so often, looking strangely hungry.

Not so strangely, perhaps, Kuroko thought to himself once he had left. He touched his lips, swollen from their goodnight kisses. Because it had to be his blood that Kiyoshi desired most of all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If anyone noticed the difference between them, the charged energy, they made no mention of it during practices or games. A few times, Kuroko caught Hyuuga watching Kiyoshi strangely—like he knew something was off, was wrong.

But he never said a word, to either of them.

And when they started being less subtle about touching each other—little touches on the shoulders, the back, the hands—no one seemed to have anything to say but Kagami, Riko and Hyuuga.

Kagami, embarrassed but heartfelt, “I’m happy for you.”

Riko, genuine and warm, “I’m happy he’s found someone.”

Hyuuga, gruff and scowling, “If he hurts you, you come running. I’ll kick his ass.”

It was official. Kuroko was dating the undead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The second time was on purpose.

“Oops.” His tone was flat as he drew the knife across the pad of his thumb. Kiyoshi startled up off the couch, rushing over. They had taken to spending time alone in Kiyoshi’s apartment, now that he had one.

“Kuroko.” He glanced at the counter, where there wasn’t even a cutting board lying about. “Kuroko, what have you done to yourself?”

He had wanted to see that hunger again. That burning passion. He had wanted to feel.

“It hurts.” He offered it towards Kiyoshi, but Kiyoshi just closed his eyes, breathing unsteadily.

“You can’t—do this. Not for me.”

“It’s not just for you.” Kuroko stood on his tiptoes, held his bleeding thumb closer to Kiyoshi’s mouth. Kiyoshi’s nostrils flared and when he opened his eyes they were  _red._

“Don’t say that. You can’t—say that.”

“Oh? And what should I say,” he said, “dearest?”

Kiyoshi growled in his throat, low and soft. He gripped Kuroko’s wrist too tightly.

“It hurts,” Kuroko repeated, quieter. That was all it took for Kiyoshi to take his thumb into his mouth. Kuroko felt the scrape of his fangs, felt the soft suck Kiyoshi gave it before slowly, slowly, pulling away. His big hands trembled where they touched Kuroko.

“Don’t do it again,” he warned. “It’s too dangerous. I’m too dangerous.”

“I disagree. You love me.” The words were difficult to say, even now. Even though it had nearly been a year since he had found out, a year, since Kiyoshi had made his desire known.

“That is precisely why I’m dangerous, Kuroko,” he said, almost sad. Kuroko stepped in closer, tilting his head back. Kiyoshi obligingly kissed him, lightly, mindful of his fangs.

He tasted like iron.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The third time was an agreement.

“You’re sure about this?” Kiyoshi asked, not for the first time. He getting paler by the day, even his lips, and his eyes had taken on a permanent red hue—enough that other people were starting to take notice.

“Just do it,” Kuroko said, feeling a bit irritable as he pulled off his shirt and leaned back against the pillows. Kiyoshi had been having difficult finding anything—finding  _anyone_  to eat. At this rate, he was going to starve to death.

“It’s dangerous. I don’t want to hurt you.” Even so, Kiyoshi crawled over him, eyeing his neck. His familiar weight around him was a comfort, but Kuroko’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding too quickly.

“I trust you,” Kuroko said, voice smaller than he liked.

Kiyoshi smiled, crooked. “That makes one of us, then.” He pressed the knife into Kuroko’s hand. “I go too far, you don’t hesitate, you understand?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You have to promise me. I’ll call this whole thing off.”

“You can’t.” Kuroko grabbed one of his arms when Kiyoshi made to lean away. “You’ll—”  _You’ll die,_ he nearly said. But he was already dead, wasn’t he?

“Then promise me.” Kiyoshi brushed a few of the strands of hair out of Kuroko’s eyes. Kuroko’s fingers curled around the cold hilt of the kitchen knife and nodded.

“I promise.”

Kiyoshi kissed him first, deep and hard. His fangs nearly cut Kuroko’s lips. But he was already moving on, leaving a trail of soft kisses across his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone, back up again where he sucked gently on Kuroko’s pulse point.

The bite hurt, just for a moment. It was a strange sensation, having something embedded there, but Kiyoshi’s lips were familiar, his skin warming by the second. Kuroko curled his free hand into Kiyoshi’s hair as he began to suck. Gentle draws at first, then deeper. Hungrier.

It was dizzying. Intoxicating. Kuroko gasped for breath as Kiyoshi bit down harder.

The knife fell from his fingers, fingers that scrabbled for purchase along Kiyoshi’s back, pushing up his shirt to get at bare skin.

_I want, I want, I want._

Did it feel the same for him?

“Kiyoshi,” he breathed out. “Kiyoshi.”

Kiyoshi mumbled his name against his skin.

Kuroko smiled and closed his eyes.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
